Читать книгу Mr. Emmanuel - Louis Golding - Страница 15

VIII

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The door seemed to open of itself as in the smack of a wind from the sea.

“Here’s Daddy!” cried Dick Cooper excitedly, appearing in the doorway. Then he disappeared. Then John Cooper appeared there, flanked by the four women, Rose, Sarah, Mary, Ailsa, all clinging to him as if they grew on his clothes. He was very blunt, broad-shouldered, sea-scarred—altogether rather frightening. So were his eyebrows, so was the hand-grip, so was everything about him but the voice, which was quite subdued and even.

“Glad to see you again, Mr. Emmanuel, after all these years!”

“How are you, Captain Cooper? Such a pleasure!” quavered Mr. Emmanuel. His hand dropped limply to his side. Did that Goliath of a man once stretch himself out in a Magnolia Street bedroom? It was not possible.

“Where are those boys now?” asked John. “Come on! Let’s have a look at ’em!”

“They’re up and around,” said Rose. “I’ll call them!”

They were summoned and looked over. There was something a little perfunctory about the inspection, as if it were a parade of deck-hands. But again the voice belied the manner. The voice was thoroughly warm and hospitable, though not many words were wasted.

“Hope you’ve been comfortable, boys! Sorry I’m going to see so little of you! Perhaps I’ll see a bit more of you another holiday!”

The short phrases, the air of authority, brought out all the Prussian in his guests. The answering salutation was like a movement in a drill-hall.

John Cooper’s eyebrows lifted, and declined at once.

“See you soon, boys! Must go and have a wash! Don’t go, Mr. Emmanuel! We’ll have a drink when I come down!”

The inference was, if Mr. Emmanuel was not to go, the others might. They hung about uncertainly for a moment or two, then they went, Klaus shepherding them.

John Cooper left the room, carrying his load of women. Mr. Emmanuel sat down, feeling a little weak at the knees.

“He will have to go, my little Bruno,” he murmured. “Of course he will have to go.”

It was all hands on deck for dinner that evening. John liked a good lay-out when he got back. His sister Mary came in for dinner too, accompanied by the deplorable Tessa. It would really have been a little difficult if the boys themselves had not given a hand. Everything went well, excepting for the sweet—it was a sort of pineapple pudding with whipped cream.

“Good God!” the captain exploded. “Pineapple again! The whole ship’s been stinking with pineapples!”

The pudding was quickly spirited out of the way. A great lump of Stilton was put into its place.

“That’s fine!” approved the captain. He cut off a large wedge with his knife. “Here, you!” he exclaimed, handing it to the boy who happened to be nearest to him. “Take this! It beats all that German junk!”

The boy happened to be Siegfried Jacobson. It might as well have been Klaus or Heinrich or Hugo or Bruno. It was clear to Mr. Emmanuel that the five boys were just as indistinguishable to John as five Chinese coolies. But it happened to be Siegfried Jacobson. The youth blushed to the ears.

“Perhaps it is not a bad thing,” mused Mr. Emmanuel, “the boys are going. There might be troubles!”

The boys went to bed earlier that evening than usual. It was Klaus, tactful if ponderous, who seemed to be ushering them away, though all of them might have been feeling that the minds of the Cooper women were not quite with them for the time being. Everything was set as for a family party. Sarah, the eldest girl, seemed to be the silliest of the Cooper women in regard to her father. She sat on a tuffet, with her mouth slightly open, and just stared at him. She had perhaps inherited more than her sisters, if it was not too early to judge, her father’s devouring interest in the opposite sex. This being the first night after his father’s homecoming, Dick was still up, though it was hours after his bed-time. The elder Mary Cooper was staying the night in this astonishingly elastic house, which seemed to offer more room the more demands for room were made upon it.

Mr. Emmanuel was at least as delicate and tactful a person as Klaus Bieber. He thought he ought, perhaps, to have a headache.

“Excuse me, Rose,” he murmured. “Will it be rude if I go soon to bed? It feels a bit like one of my headaches is coming.”

“Oh, Mr. Emmanuel,” exclaimed Rose, very concerned. “What a shame! We’re too noisy for you! Isn’t it a shame, John! Mr. Emmanuel’s got a headache coming on! He thinks he ought to go to bed! We were looking forward to a good old pow-wow!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Emmanuel! Tough luck! It is a bit noisy, isn’t it, after the desert silence of Doomington! I wanted to ask you all sorts of questions. What’s happened to that juicy wench? You remember? Came back from America some years ago, up to the neck in diamonds? Well, never mind, that’ll keep!”

“It will be time yet for nice long talks!” Mr. Emmanuel murmured.

“But look! Just before you go! I wanted to have a word with you about that kid!”

“Which one, please?”

“The poor little devil who’s in such a state about his mother. Rose was telling me. Which one was it? I didn’t get them straight.”

“Bruno!” the girls said. “The one with the nice complexion and wavy hair.”

“He was sitting between me and Miss Cooper,” Mr. Emmanuel explained.

“Oh, yes, I think I remember. Rose has told me how nicely you’ve been looking after him. Good work!”

Mr. Emmanuel shrugged his shoulders.

“A poor little orphan! Who should help it?”

“There was some idea about keeping him back after the others leave?” John continued. “That’s so, isn’t it?”

Mr. Emmanuel looked nervously from John to Rose and back again.

“We thought maybe—” he began again.

“Wouldn’t do!” said John. “Don’t think I want to get rid of the kid! Not for one moment!” He was obviously entirely genuine about that. “But it wouldn’t do! Oughtn’t to make exceptions. Cigarette? Might help to clear your head! You don’t mind my pipe?”

“Please!”

“Anybody else? No? All right! Invited to camp, eh? Fellow called Father what, Rose? Oh, yes, Wedlake! Good fellows, these priests! Knew the hell of a fine fellow in Tampico. Once, when a whole boat-load of our fellows got jugged ...” Then he stopped and changed the subject hurriedly. It did not seem quite the right type of family anecdote. “Camp, you said. It’ll do the kid a world of good! Take him out of himself! Knock the rough corners off him!” He sucked the draught down his pipe-stem. “A kid should learn to stand on his own legs! Shouldn’t he, Mary?” He turned with a certain grimness to his sister.

“Of course!” she replied, without expression.

“Well, then!” John concluded. Clearly the matter was to be regarded as settled. “Sorry about that headache! Take a blow on deck, won’t you, before turning in?”

“Good night, all!” Mr. Emmanuel said meekly.

“I’m going to see you’re all right,” said Rose.

“Good night, Mr. Emmanuel! Good night! Good night!” the chorus followed him.

Mr. Emmanuel

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